


you've got to press it on you

by shinealightonme



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, M/M, Truth or Dare, idiot teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-31
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2020-03-30 01:07:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19031620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinealightonme/pseuds/shinealightonme
Summary: "I'm confused why you're even playing," Adam tells Ronan. "Isn't Truth or Dare just how you live your life?"





	you've got to press it on you

**Author's Note:**

> Written for an anon on tumblr who wanted Ronan and Adam playing Truth or Dare. I am of the opinion that this game only exists to generate Very Stupid Angst, so here, have some Very Stupid Angst.

"I'm confused why you're even playing," Adam tells Ronan. "Isn't Truth or Dare just how you live your life?"

Ronan spares him a glance. Adam thinks he's mostly doing it to ignore the center of the hotel room, where a dozen of their classmates are hammering out the rules. Adam would like to ignore them, too; he hadn't realized that Truth or Dare needed rules beyond _the title of the game_.

"You don't know shit about my life."

"I know that you don't need an excuse to do stupid things and say whatever you think."

"Honesty and bravery are normally considered virtues, Parrish."

Adam snorts. Ronan Lynch, virtuous -- except he _is_ , isn't he? For a particular, narrow definition of virtuous.

He doesn't concede the point, since Ronan doesn't think he's qualified to comment on his life. Never mind that Gansey is the best friend Adam has at Aglionby -- the best friend that Adam has anywhere -- and Gansey spends as much time as humanly possible with Ronan, which means Adam spends most of his time with him, too. Mostly like this, snappy words and cold shoulders. Adam has given up on being friends. He aims for "getting along, mostly, while Gansey is watching," at least when he has the energy to play nice with someone who doesn't play nice with him.

He doesn't have the energy today. They're one day into a week-long class trip that no one is happy about. The other Aglionby boys are bored, because they're used to trips to Manhattan and Aspen and the south of France -- Washington D.C. is a distinct letdown, even before the part where it's supposed to be educational. Adam is disgruntled because the administration waived the cost of the trip for him, like that was the only barrier, and made such a show of their largesse that it was impossible for him to say _no, actually, I'd rather stay in town and not miss any shifts at work._

And now half the rooms on their floor have decided to play Truth or Dare after lights out, lubricated by vodka that Hawthorne snuck in with his luggage. It's one final indignity in a day that was already full of them. Adam doesn't want to play, but he doesn't have the social capital to put a stop to it. He's left with nothing to do but chew on his anger at Gansey, who does have the social capital to stop this and isn't, and his jealousy of Ronan, who doesn't _care_.

Ronan makes a better target than Gansey. Ronan makes a better target than anyone. Ronan spends a great deal of time and energy ensuring he will be considered a target.

"Last chance to chicken out," Whitaker says. Adam is tempted, but this is the room he was assigned to. He knows, in a fatalistic sort of way, that if he ditches Truth or Dare he'll get caught outside after curfew and get detention.

The initial rounds aren't too bad. No one's had time to think of anything interesting. Adam picks dare to start, to get it over with while the best anyone can come up with is to make him lick the floor. He sticks to truth after that. It's still a risk, but only a small one. No one is asking any of the things he really can't afford to answer. The questions are all about sex, not that any of them have had enough of it to be worth talking about. He has to be...selective about how he answers, but as long as he still sacrifices his dignity, no one catches on that he's lying.

It's two rounds before someone backs out on a dare. The room boos and hisses, declares that Bowman has to do a lengthy handle pull and toss a hundred dollars into the middle of the circle. No one specifies a plan for what happens to the money after that. No one seems to cares that there's a hundred dollars on the floor.

Gansey splits his choices pretty evenly, a truth for every dare, but no one makes him do or say anything too undignified. Even in a game designed to humiliate each other, everyone still recognizes the royal prerogative. Adam would resent that more if he weren't glad for it, too. He doesn't know how he'd feel, to see Gansey dethroned over something as stupid as this game.

Ronan chooses dare every time. The guys give him all the stupidest and most dangerous stunts to perform, the ones anyone else would chicken out on. He jumps out the second floor window. He disappears for twenty minutes and returns with the license plate off one of the chaperone's cars. He doesn't actually do a flaming shot, but he's clearly about to before Gansey intervenes and tells Parker to pick something that isn't going to set off the smoke detector, or incidentally, immolate any of the players.

The more invested players start to look stumped, like they're realizing they can't come up with anything that Ronan would refuse to do.

And then:

"Lynch. I dare you...to make out..."

Adam stifles a sigh. He should have seen this coming. Last round Griffith had to flash everyone, upon accusation of having a weird-looking dick; Bennet took the penalty to get out of sending a nude to the first girl in his phone when he realized that was his grandma. Not to mention the questions for truth have been an endless interrogation about sexual fantasies and masturbation habits. It was only a matter of time before someone pushed it that step further. And Ronan and Gansey are doing that thing they do where they sit too close but without actually touching, like they just _know_ each other's bodies that well. Forcing them to kiss each other is exactly the kind of brilliant epiphany this group would have, and doesn't that say something depressing about the future of America.

"...with Parrish."

He freezes.

It was supposed to be Gansey. It was so obviously meant to be Gansey. If you were going to force Ronan to make out with someone, it would be Gansey, with their odd living arrangement and codependent behaviors. _That_ was the joke, that any relationship where two people cared about each other had to have a sexual component.

A snicker runs around the circle. No one else has a problem with this choice. Maybe they're still preserving Gansey's dignity. Or maybe -- they've all decided this is an acceptable dare, because a dare is supposed to be humiliating, and that's what Adam is.

His stomach contracts into a hard cold knot. His face is burning. He hates every last person in this room. He hates that his first kiss is going to happen while a bunch of drunken Aglionby boys leer and say _I can't believe Lynch would do that_ \--

\-- but some sick little place inside him hears that he gets to make out with Ronan and goes _yes, God, please._

Ronan eyes him for a long bored second. Adam tries to keep his breathing under control. Tries not to think about how Ronan is going to do it. Is he going to move close enough they'll brush up against each other, is he going to touch Adam's face, is he going to use tongue -- 

Ronan uncrosses his legs. Adam's heart crashes into his rib cage.

"Pass."

The circle cries out in a chorus of _boos_. Someone calls out "pussy!" but Gansey handles them like he handles everything, "he said pass, let it go." Ronan pulls his wallet out of his pocket and throws the entire thing into the middle of the circle before snatching the vodka and taking a pull that lasts for several seconds.

Adam doesn't move. Why would he? He just dodged a bullet. He got off the hook and he didn't even have to pay for it. Any of the guys would say that he'd lucked out, and if he opens his mouth right now he's going to throw up.

The game moves on. Adam flinches every time someone chooses _dare_. He's just been branded the worst thing that could happen to someone. It's only a matter of time before someone else gets him inflicted on them -- and this time they won't pass, they'll take the dare, because who could resist the chance to show off that they were braver than Lynch?

Someone is going to kiss him tonight. It ticks away in his head, a countdown with no set end point. Will it be this turn, or the next one, and does it even matter, because whoever it is, it won't be anyone he wants.

Adam learned something true from this game after all.

Ronan's turn comes up again. It's dare, again. He gets sent to go break into the hotel pool to skinny dip, and he's off and out of the room before Gansey can even finishing telling him to " _try_ to exercise some caution."

Apparently he didn't take that advice, because a few minutes later they hear a voice bellow "what do you think you're doing, young man?" from outside the hotel.

"Oh, shit!" Morrison falls from his perch in the window, where he was bearing witness that Ronan didn't cheat. "The headmaster caught him!" and every last raven boy scrambles up from the floor and runs, to hit the lights, to dive into bed, to run back to their own room before they get caught and share Ronan's fate.

Adam stares at the wall with his eyes wide open long after the danger has passed and everyone else in the room has fallen asleep.

-

"What's gotten into you?"

It's the last day of the trip. Gansey is still the best friend that Adam has, which means he's been stuck with Ronan every minute of the last week, or at least every minute that Ronan wasn't confined to quarters in punishment for blowing curfew. It's just like a normal week, really, except that now Adam knows two things: that he would really like to make out with Ronan, and that making out with him is the one thing that Ronan will never do.

So he maybe hasn't been very gracious to Ronan, but then, when has Ronan ever been gracious to him?

"Nothing," Adam says.

"Bullshit." Ronan crosses his arms and plants himself in front of the door. Adam looks longingly out the window, where the classmates he's been hating all week are gathering in the courtyard to go out on some new insufferable field trip. How he longs to join them, if it means he can get away from here. "You've been acting like an asshole all week."

"'What got into you' implies a change of behavior."

"You're always an asshole, you're not always this much of an asshole."

"Yeah, well, practice makes perfect."

There's a muffled voice from out in the hallway. Ronan looks over his shoulder. Adam tries to use the distraction to slip past him.

He doesn't make it. Ronan turns and blocks him again. Adam steps backward so fast he nearly trips.

"Careful," he says, "you wouldn't want to accidentally touch me."

"Is this about that stupid game?" Ronan doesn't even look surprised. That's how obvious Adam is. Ronan already knows that he's spent the last week pining away for him like a creep, lashing out at him like something worse than a creep. "You can't say you wanted to make out in front of those sick losers."

He can't, because he _didn't_ , except that that was the only way it was ever going to happen at all, and apparently what he wants is so far out of his reach that even the worst possible way of getting it is denied to him.

"The point of the game is to force people to do humiliating things," Adam says, "and it turns out I'm the most humiliating thing anyone could think of. Sorry if it takes me some time to get used to that."

"That's not the point of the game."

Adam glares at him.

"It's _not_. I'd know, right? That's my whole life, do stupid shit and say whatever I think of. It's not about humiliating people. It's about doing things you're afraid of until there's nothing left that can scare you."

"Am I supposed to believe that you're _afraid_ of me?" Adam fills those words with as much disdain as he can manage. It's a lot.

"No."

"You said it, not me."

He sighs. "I'll prove it. Give me a dare."

"I don't want anything from you," Adam says. That isn't the truth, but it's close enough to sound like the truth. He's not going to say _you can't give me what I want_.

"Then ask me a question."

Ronan hadn't taken truth once in the whole game. Adam could ask him any stupid invasive question he wants and Ronan would answer it, and Adam would have that knowledge to lord over him for the rest of their school careers.

There's really only one thing Adam wants to know.

"If you weren't _afraid._ Then why didn't you just do it and get it over with?"

Ronan says, "I'm not going to make out with a guy because those assholes think that's the funniest thing in the world."

He's dead serious.

Adam remembers how he'd felt watching the Aglionby boys play at homoeroticism, for laughs, for shock value. For a moment, he gets it.

But he also remembers that second before his name was said. Ronan might be telling a piece of the truth, but the deal breaker hadn't been _make out_ , it had been _Parrish_.

"If it had been Gansey you would have done it," Adam guesses.

Ronan hesitates, and then he nods.

The sick heat of rejection flares up inside of Adam again. It must show, because Ronan turns his face away. This is why people _lie,_ Lynch. No one really wants to know the truth.

Adam tries to wrestle some control back over himself. This is about Gansey, not him. So it turns out that their odd little friendship really is sexual, or at least Ronan wishes it were. Of course he would have taken an opportunity to get what he could from Gansey the same way Adam would have taken what he could get from Ronan. That doesn't have anything to do with Adam.

Reason does very little to quiet the voice in his head saying _nobody wants you_.

"Okay." Adam shoves past Ronan. "I'm done here."

He's got his hand on the doorknob when Ronan says, "it's your turn, Parrish."

There's no reason he can't walk away. This isn't a game, there's no penalty for chickening out, there's no reason to stay and every reason to leave. He's already told Ronan too much.

He lets go of the doorknob.

This game is about doing things you're afraid of? Too bad. Adam isn't afraid. He's too angry to be afraid.

"Dare."

Ronan waits for him to turn all the way around and make eye contact before he speaks.

"I dare you to kiss me."

Adam doesn't move. He can't react until he knows what he's reacting to. Ronan doesn't think Adam believes him, so he's trying to prove that he's not afraid? Ronan knows that Adam wants to kiss him, and he's taking pity on him? Or another kind of pity, more insidious -- he's giving Adam a chance to reject him, to humiliate him the same way that he'd humiliated Adam.

He can't accept any of those from Ronan, but that leaves him with no acceptable way to respond. It doesn't matter whether he takes the dare or not, except that if he backs down from a dare, he'll always know that he backed down from a dare.

If he backs down from this dare, he'll always know that he had this in his grasp and walked away.

When he finally moves, he moves fast, crosses the space between them and is on Ronan before he can think about it. 

It's awkward. He's never kissed anyone before, so he doesn't have anything to compare it to, but he can tell this isn't good. His face is sort of mashed up against Ronan's, and he knows that's not hot but he can't figure out how to get from this to _hot_. He can't find his balance, feels like he's still suspended forward, trying to charge ahead. His heart is racing and at some point very soon he's going to have to breathe, and he can't figure out how to do that either. He's going to have to move away, and then the kiss will be over. He can't even say that would be a bad thing.

And then Ronan bites his lip.

Adam thinks _ow_ and then _yes_ and then _oh, wait_ \-- because that's another dare. Ronan started this, and Adam escalated. Ronan has to escalate again or admit that Adam outdid him.

Adam is no more ready to back down now than he was a minute ago.

Adam parts his lips. Ronan's tongue brushes against his. He inhales sharply at the strangeness of that, somehow unexpected even though he goaded Ronan into doing it. He isn't sure he likes it, except then Ronan _stops_ and he hears himself sigh, disappointed.

But of course Ronan isn't ready to call this off. He takes one deep breath that buzzes in Adam's ears, harsh and too close, and then he crashes back into Adam. Fits their mouths together and places a hand on Adam's face, the other on the side of his neck.

They must be lined up better, now, because this isn't difficult at all. Adam breath comes in quick short pants. He shivers every time he feels Ronan's tongue in his mouth, until -- sudden, curious, impatient -- he wants a turn. He slides his tongue into Ronan's mouth, wonders for a second if he did that right, and then Ronan's fingers spasm where they're touching his neck, Ronan leans into him, and this is right, everything is right. He isn't worried anymore that they'll fall apart. Ronan has welded them together, hot and heavy and solid, and it takes him a minute to remember that that's a _bad_ thing. He can't let Ronan keep the upper hand.

He gropes his way blindly down Ronan's sides until he finds his hips and then he grabs hold, digs his fingers in hard, feels the seam of his pants crushed across his palms.

Ronan groans out some word that gets lost in between them. The hand on the side of his face shifts over to his hair and grasps, holds him in place while Ronan slides his tongue into his mouth again with a slow sure confidence that makes Adam go dizzy. He grips Ronan's hips tighter and pushes him until his back is up against a wall. Ronan places a hand on the small of Adam's back and pulls him in closer, like he's saying _is that all you've got_ , even though their bodies were already joined mouth and chest and hands.

Adam fumbles at Ronan's waist, feverishly glad that Ronan never follows dress code. He shoves a hand up the back of his untucked shirt and digs his nails into the skin there, warm and smooth and solid.

Ronan rolls his hips forward, rubbing up against Adam's thigh. He's hard; so is Adam. Their bodies aren't lined up perfectly, but he can see how to get there. He knows exactly how to answer this latest challenge, how to pin Ronan down and grind against him until he completely loses control.

It occurs to Adam that they've rocketed past _making out_ and are shooting straight for _sex_. And he wants that, desperately, except he doesn't want it at all.

"Ronan, wait." Adam has to break off the kiss to talk, but it isn't over, this has gone so far beyond a kiss. Even as he says _wait_ Ronan grabs his ass, and he almost changes his mind, _never mind, don't wait, keep going._ "It's your turn."

His eyes flutter open. Adam has never looked at him from so close. There's a little black fleck in his left iris, a crack in the ice.

"Are you shitting me?"

"It's your turn."

Ronan groans in frustration. Their bodies are still pressed hard against each other. Adam feels his hips rock a little, feels the push of his dick against his leg. For a second it doesn't matter _why_ he made that noise, Adam just wants to hear it again.

"Dare, come on -- "

Of course he picked dare. What else had Adam expected? What else does he need? He can say anything now, anything, and Ronan will do it.

Adam says, "tell me the truth."

"That's not how the game works."

He's still staring into Ronan's eyes. They aren't any less captivating for being narrowed at him in accusation. It would be so easy to let them reel him back in, prey too hypnotized to run from its doom.

Adam steps back from the wall. "Then I don't want to play."

Ronan still has his eyes locked onto Adam with an intensity he feels like a physical pressure. Worse, Adam can take in the rest of him now, too: the flush over his cheeks and down his neck, the patch of exposed skin along his waist where Adam pushed his shirt up, the way he's leaning against the wall like he needs that to keep him upright. A part of Adam screams at him _don't be an idiot, you can have this, don't throw it away_ , but if he doesn't know what it is then it isn't his to have.

He goes for the door.

"Truth."

Adam whirls around. Ronan has stepped away from the wall, but his clothes are still mussed and his eyes are still bright. Every indecent inch of him is beckoning, tantalizing, on offer. Adam feels like he's about to die.

" _Why_?" Adam demands. "Why can't you let it go? What the hell do you _want_ from me?"

Ronan takes a step closer to Adam and then stops. Waits, like he's determining if Adam is about to run away. Good luck with that. Adam can't even figure that out.

He takes another step, and another, and then he reaches out and takes Adam's hand. Presses his palm against Adam's, twines their fingers together. Lifts their tangled hands up and brushes his lips over Adam's knuckles.

"I wasn't scared to kiss you," he admits. "I was scared I wouldn't stop."

Adam doesn't know how long he stands there, not breathing. His heart beats about a hundred times, but as fast as it's going, that doesn't mean anything.

"I was scared you would kiss me," he says, scraping words out of his chest. "And that would be all I ever got."

Ronan leans in and kisses Adam, closed mouthed like they'd started, but a thousand times softer. It only lasts a second before Ronan kisses him again, and a third time -- like he's trying to prove Adam wrong. Adam smiles, and then half-laughs, a strange breathless sound, when he realizes that yes, of course Ronan has to prove him wrong.

"Jerk," Adam murmurs, and squeezes Ronan's hand at the same time, _I like that, don't stop_.

Ronan huffs, pleasure or irritation or both, Adam can't tell without seeing his face. He goes right on kissing Adam, in odd sweet intimate places -- his neck, his jaw, his cheek, his ear. Adam doesn't understand this, either, but like hell is he going to throw it away.

"Dare you to be my boyfriend," Ronan says, voice warm in his ear.

Adam is scared to say yes. Adam is terrified of what happens if he takes that dare. But Ronan never backs down because of fear, and Adam wants that. Adam wants _this_.

"You're on," and Ronan kisses him until someone bangs on the door to yell at them for being late.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like this fic, you can [reblog it on tumblr](https://toast-the-unknowing.tumblr.com/post/185260808340/happy-anniversary-your-trc-fics-are-my-absolute).


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